work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4167,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-18 00:00:00 UTC,"These Out-guards of the Mind are sent abroad,
And still patrolling beat the neighb'ring Road:
Or to the Parts remote obedient fly,
Keep Posts advanc'd, and on the Frontier lye.
The watchful Centinels at ev'ry Gate,
At ev'ry Passage to the Senses wait.
Still travel to and fro the Nervous way,
And their Impressions to the Brain convey,
Where their Report the Vital Envoys make,
And with new Orders are remanded back.
Quick, as a darted Beam of Light, they go,
Thro' diff'rent Paths to diff'rent Organs flow,
Whence they reflect as swiftly to the Brain,
To give it Pleasure, or to give it Pain.
(VI, ll. 670-683, pp. 305-6)",,10782,INTEREST,"""These Out-guards of the Mind are sent abroad, / And still patrolling beat the neighb'ring Road: / Or to the Parts remote obedient fly, / Keep Posts advanc'd, and on the Frontier lye.""",Empire and Inhabitants,2013-08-07 14:40:42 UTC,Book VI
4167,Animal Spirits,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-18 00:00:00 UTC,"But other Spirits govern'd by the Will
Shoot thro' their Tracks, and distant Muscles fill.
This Sov'raign by his arbitrary Nod
Restrains, or sends his Ministers abroad.
Swift and obedient to his high Command,
They stir a Finger, or they lift a Hand;
They tune our Voices, or they move our Eyes;
By these we walk, or from the Ground arise:
By these we turn, by these the Body bend;
Contract a Limb at Pleasure, or extend.
And tho' these Spirits, which obsequious go,
Know not the Paths, thro' which they ready flow,
Nor can our Mind instruct them in their Way,
Of all their Roads as ignorant, as they;
Yet seldom erring they attain their End,
And reach that single Part, which we intend.
Unguided they a just Distinction make,
This Muscle swell, and leave the other slack.
And when their Force this Limb or that inflects,
Our Will the Measure of that Force directs,
The Spirits which distend them, as we please
Exert their Pow'r, or from their Duty cease.
(VI, ll. 648-669, pp. 304-5)",,10786,"","""But other Spirits govern'd by the Will / Shoot thro' their Tracks, and distant Muscles fill. / This Sov'raign by his arbitrary Nod / Restrains, or sends his Ministers abroad."" ",Inhabitants,2013-08-07 14:52:52 UTC,Book VI
4167,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,"Where dwells this Sovereign Arbitrary Soul,
Which does the human Animal controul,
Inform each Part, and agitate the whole?
O'er Ministerial Senses does preside,
To all their various Provinces divide,
Each Member move, and ev'ry Motion guide.
Which by her secret uncontested Nod
Her Messengers the Spirits sends abroad,
Thro' ev'ry nervous Pass, and ev'ry vital Road.
To fetch from ev'ry distant Part a Train,
Of outward Objects to enrich the Brain.
Where sits this bright Intelligence enthron'd,
With numberless Ideas pour'd around?
Where Wisdom, Prudence, Contemplation stand,
And busie Fantoms watch her high Command:
Where Sciences and Arts in order wait,
And Truths Divine compose her Godlike State.
Can the dissecting Steel the Brain display,
And the august Apartment open lay,
Where this great Queen still chuses to reside
In Intellectual Pomp, and bright Ideal Pride?
Or can the Eye assisted by the Glass
Discern the strait, but hospitable Place,
In which ten thousand Images remain,
Without Confusion, and their Rank maintain?
(VII, ll. 303-327, pp. 329-30)",,10791,"","""O'er Ministerial Senses [the soul] does preside, / To all their various Provinces divide, / Each Member move, and ev'ry Motion guide.""",Inhabitants,2013-08-07 15:10:03 UTC,Book VII
4136,Self Command,Reading,2013-07-10 16:27:03 UTC,"This indeed is but too certain; That as long as we enjoy a Mind; as long as we have Appetites and Sense, the Fancys of all kinds will be hard at work; and whether we are in company, or alone, they must range still, and be active. They must have their Field. The Question is, Whether they shall have it wholly to themselves; or whether they shall have some Controuler or Manager. If none; 'Tis this, I fear, that leads to Madness. 'Tis this, and nothing else, that can be call'd Madness or Loss of Reason. For if Fancy be left Judg of any thing, she must be Judg of all. Every thing is right, if any thing be so, because I fancy it. ""The House turns round. The Prospect turns. No, but my Head turns indeed: I have a Giddiness: that's all. Fancy wou'd persuade me thus and thus: but I know better."" 'Tis by means therefore of a Controuler and Corrector of Fancy, that I am sav'd from being mad. Otherwise, 'tis the House turns, when I am giddy. 'Tis things that charge (for so I must suppose) when my Passion merely, or Temper changes. ""But I was out of Order. I dreamt. Who tells me this? Who but the Correctrice, by whose means I am in my Wits, and without whom I am no longer my-self?""
(pp. 322-3; p. 144 in Klein)",,21611,"","""This indeed is but too certain; That as long as we enjoy a Mind; as long as we have Appetites and Sense, the Fancys of all kinds will be hard at work; and whether we are in company, or alone, they must range still, and be active. They must have their Field. The Question is, Whether they shall have it wholly to themselves; or whether they shall have some Controuler or Manager.""",Inhabitants,2013-07-10 16:27:18 UTC,""